Page 50 of Savage Games

There was a loud crash.

Maxine and I both turned to see the blonde had dropped her tray.

“Stupid fool,” scolded Maxine. She clapped her hands again. “Go and get the bodice and muslin for Miss Elizabeth.” Then turning to me, she sighed and said, “That girl is new this week and already I want to fire her.”

She then redirected my attention back to my drawing. “Are you familiar with mulberry silk, chéri? Ah! My! It is glorious, so delicate and soft. It will float around you like a cloud and shimmer with each movement.”

I was familiar with the silk. It was one of the most expensive fabrics in the world. It’s said they only fed the silkworms mulberry leaves. The result was a pure white, luxurious silk that allowed for perfect uniformity no matter what color you dyed it. It was the perfect, albeit extravagant, choice. Typical Richard, the best at any cost.

I ran the tip of my finger over the pencil drawing of the rather intricate beadwork pattern I had created, depicting orange blossoms. I had designed it based on a piece of Victorian lace I had come across in a book, knowing orange blossoms were a traditional symbol of good fortune and popular in Victorian weddings after Queen Victoria herself wore a crown of orange blossoms for her wedding to Prince Albert.

“Will you be able to recreate the beadwork?”

“It will take some work, but for you? Of course! I have already ordered the Swarovski crystals, per Richard’s instructions. You must look perfect. After all, the world will be watching.”

Smiling nervously, I raised my glass and took a long sip of champagne.

We hadn’t even started truly planning the wedding yet and already I was grateful for Richard’s guidance. Apparently, marrying a member of the royal aristocracy was a really big deal in England.

Maxine continued to prattle on about using fresh orange blossoms in a wreath of flowers in my hair for the veil instead of the more common diamond tiara and something about it causing a sensation. I wasn’t really listening.

All I could think about was Richard and how I truly didn’t know what it would mean to become this powerful and influential man’s wife. Was I up to the task? I worried my lower lip as I feared the answer. Once again, I wished Richard was here. I always felt more confident about myself when he was around. He always took charge of every situation and I found I had become used to it.

Of course, he couldn’t be here. It was probably improper for the groom to see the wedding dress in any form before the wedding.

The clumsy blonde brought the muslin pattern and bodice into the lounge. While the rest of the dress was in the rough-cut muslin pattern, it looked as if the bodice was mostly finished. It was in the classic Victorian style, a stiffened silk reinforced with whalebone that laced up the back. I stared in awe as she placed it on the dress form.

Even in the simple cream muslin, the dress looked stunning.

Maxine fluffed the train as she stretched it across the floor. Even in the spacious lounge there was not enough room for the twenty-foot train. “Now of course this will all be lace with crystal beads,” said Maxine.

Standing, I circled the dress form. Fingering one of the cap sleeves, I asked, “Do you think this makes it look too dated and… I don’t know… childish? Maybe we should change it to a sweetheart neckline with wide straps.”

Maxine shook her head. “No. No. No. You just need to see it on.”

She clapped her hands, and the blonde raced over to help me out of my velvet vest. Then the silk dress was whipped over my head, a little bit too roughly. There was no such thing as modesty in a dressmaker’s workshop. Left in only a thin lace peach bra and panty set with my gold boots, I crossed my arms over my breasts as I waited for them to unlace the bodice from the dress form.

“Maxine. You have a phone call. It’s Eugenia. She says the dress is all the wrong color. She wanted lipstick red, not crimson red.”

Maxine rolled her eyes. “Try on the bodice, Elizabeth. I will return.”

The lounge felt strangely tense and awkward the moment Maxine left.

“Arms up,” demanded the blonde.

“Sure. I’m Lizzie, by the way.”

She didn’t respond.

So much for breaking the tension.

She wrapped the bodice around my front and pulled it tight.

“Wait! Something’s wrong!” I exclaimed as I pulled at the bodice. “I think a few pins are sticking me.”

The blonde continued to pull roughly on the laces of the corset-style bodice, pulling it tighter and tighter.

“Stop! Something’s wrong!”

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